Sleep

I have spent much time in listless sleep Going in between surges of intense heat With single beads of sweat Dripping down my back at an agonizingly slow pace And all-consuming cold that envelops me in its grasp And refuses to let go. My brain becomes habitat to all of the voices in my head Which never get a chance to speak during the day. They chatter incessantly about both nothing and everything Their voices all mimic my own But none of them sound familiar. My mind starts to rack itself for any uncharted memories Ones that have either been accidentally forgotten Or purposefully repressed. My brain starts to go numb As it tries to navigate the scrambled clock of memory. I pray for the fanciful cloak of sleep But it seems to always escape my grasp. Finally, I resolve to just lie perfectly still Almost as if I were being paralyzed from the toes up. I keep begging the voices to silence themselves And one by one, they become less jarring And more muffled, almost comforting. Hour by hour bitter rain pours As I am finally left alone with myself. It was a long time since I had breathed so simply.

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